


Yarborough

by lycanicNovelist



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Family Issues, slick goes to jail
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-05
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 00:55:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lycanicNovelist/pseuds/lycanicNovelist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Vantas, aka Spades Slick, has been arrested for his allegience to the Midnight Crew. His only son, Karkat, shifts between staying with Jack's girl, and being put up for adoption.</p><p>Jack ain't havin' none a that shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Before the Game Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm new to this site. Bear with me.

It’s three in the morning. Karkat’s asleep and you’re still sitting in the den, coffee in one hand a pen in the other, papers spread everywhere, licorice Scotties littered between them. All the reports from your outfit’s mooks all came in at once for some reason and of course, you’re left to sort through them all. It’s a strain on your mind but fuck, someone’s gotta do it, and you’re the only one who can get it done right.

There’s a knock. Goddammit. If it’s one of those shit-faced neighborhood kids leaving some flaming dog crap on your porch, you’re gonna blow a gasket. You open the door, scowling, expecting to see a bag of shit.

What you actually see is a pair of shiny black shoes, at the end of some nicely pressed dark pants. Shit. You look up, and higher, to see a building of a man that’s give Boxcars a run for his money. He’s a cop, as evidenced by the badge on his chest. Yeah, you definitely need this so early in the morning.

“Jack Vantas?” The cop asks gruffly. You nod, scratching the back of your head. You seriously hope he’s not here for what you think he is. “Is this about Karkat? ‘Cause if it is, why the fuck are you coming around at three in the damn morning, I mean this couldn’t-”

“Jack Vantas, alias Spades Slick, you’re under arrest for being a member of an illegal organization, suspected of several murders, and held accountable for the heists of several local casinos.”

Oh fuck.

You slam the door shut and dead-bolt it, high-tailing it to the den. You throw all the papers into the dark fireplace and scramble for a match. The copper pounds on the door, demanding you open the door. Yeah, that’s a thing that’s gonna happen. You find a match and scrape it along the brick fireplace and toss it in. The papers are set ablaze.

There’s a cry upstairs- Karkat’s awake. You curse audibly, and head upstairs to console the little brat. He’s cowering under his covers when you walk in, sniffling like a baby. You gather him up in your arms, blankets and all, and whisper for him to shut up as you carry him down the hall to the fire escape.

“Stay here and don’t move till I come back, ya hear?” He nods, and you abscond back into the apartment for a few things. You change into your usual inconspicuous black suit, and take your gun and some knives from your study and your emergency bag of Scotties. You’re about to head back upstairs when you remember your key card, stashed in your spare hat- by the door.

Fuck.

The cop’s still trying to get in, and it’ll only take a few more second before he breaks through. You dash over and snatch up the hat, just as the door breaks off and the cop has a gun pointed at your heart. He gestures for you back up against the wall and you do. Several more cops trickle into the house as the first one frisks you. He finds your weapons and Scotties. He doesn’t check the hat, so you know the key’s safe.

There’s a shout upstairs, and instantly, you know they’ve found Karkat on the fire escape. Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck. You make a move to run, but the cop’s still got his gun on you. There’s more shouting, which become screams, and a cop comes downstairs, Karkat over his shoulder like a bag of meat. 

“Goddammit, put him down! He’s scarin’ the shit outta him you fuckshit!” The cop gives you a dirty look, but he puts Karkat down. His eyes are red, you can see from the light of the fire in the den, and he’s shaking like a goddamn leaf. He sees you and runs over, clinging to your legs like a seven year old should.

“Shh, Karkat, shut up. Stop crying. You’re fine, you’re gonna be okay. Dammit, be quiet, you look like a fool.” He still doesn’t stop crying, so you bend to hug him and he clings to you like some kind of leech. You pick him up and a cop moves to take him away, but you give him a look that says ‘touch him and I’ll kill you.’ Ain’t no one touchin’ your kid. 

After you’ve made it clear you’re not letting the kid go, the cops escort you outside to the car. You get in, still holding Karkat, who’s still sniffling and blubbering.  


It’s gonna be a long day tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That didn't last very long.
> 
> The title comes from a deal in bridge, where all your cards are no higher than nine. It takes a lot of skill to win with them, which fits pretty well here.
> 
> I went with a more stylistic approach to writing this, phrasing it like how Slick would say it. I think I did pretty well.
> 
> Don't expect chapters to be overly long, sadly. This is in the developmental stage, I literally thought of it in the shower.
> 
> Thank you for your cooperation.


	2. Shuffling the Deck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, another chapter.

The ride to the station is uneventful, aside from you having to shut Karkat up the whole time. He’s still crying by the time you get there, and when they have to detach him from you to take your mug shots ‘n’ shit, all hell breaks loose. The kid starts wailing like a cat, and only when the cops give him a sucker and some juice is he able to calm down enough. Goddamn he’s emotional.

They take your fingerprints and shots, and you are sure to make some gnarly faces at the camera- go big or go home. Then they ask you a bunch of questions about your heists, and you answer as much as you can, or really, as much as you want to. 

Finally, you’re deposited in a cell, one of those stereotypical ones right out of an old gang movie. Damn, you love those. You gotta watch Scarface again, if you ever get outta this hole. A cop comes to you with a cell phone, saying you get one designated phone call.

You take the phone and think of who to call. Droog? Nah, no members of the crew; too suspicious. Other than the crew, you don’t really know or like people. You could call Karkat’s momma, who skipped out of town after his birth, but like she’ll even respond. You couldn’t care less about her anyway, she was a rude bitch.  
You punch in a number and wait for her to pick up. You hope she’ll understand. She probably will. After the sixth ring, she picks up, and a sleepy “Hello?” vibrates through the phone.

“’Ey, Missy, we got a lil’ problem,” you say, trying to sound casual. The line is silent for a moment before Missy recognizes your voice.

“Jack? It’s almost four in the morning, what are you… Whose phone are you on? Did you go drinking? Jaaack…” There’s that tone that she puts on when she’s just exhausted by you. You cut her off before she can lecture you.

“Nah, I ain’t drunk. I got in trouble with the cops…” You break off, hoping she’ll get what you mean. You also hope she won’t say anything dumb; this phone’s probably recording this conversation. Missy gasps, catching on.

“Oh god Jack. How… How did you let this happen? Oh no, this is horrible…” Astute observation. “Alright, I’m coming to get you, just don’t- Jack, where’s Karkat? Was he with you? Is he with someone?”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s here, the cops picked him up. Look, I called you so you could come get him, cause I ain’t lettin’ them cops keep him around. Just come here, get him, and maybe, if bail’s posted, get me out?”

Missy sighs. “That was a dumb question; of course they’re not going to post bail tonight. I’ll come get Karkat, and he’ll stay with me for a while. God, Jack, I’m so upset with you!” The phone fumbles for a second, then Missy comes back on. “I’m on my way. Don’t do anything stupid. Love you.”

“Love ya, doll, you’re the best.” Missy gives a small ‘humph’ before hanging up. Yup, she’s pissed. But you know she won’t stay bad for long, she likes you too much.  
You give the phone back to the cop, and tell him your girl’s comin’ to pick up the kid. The cop, like an ass, says that’s ‘against protocol’ or some shit, but he’ll talk to the chief. You decide not to ask to see the kid, cause you know what the guard’ll say.

He leaves, and you’re left in the barred cell with a cruddy bed, a sink, and a pisser. This brings you back to when you and the other guys used to hide out in the sewers, using old maintenance offices as your headquarters. This was when there was only for of you; Droog, Boxcars, Deuce, and you. Man, those were the days. Baggin’ heists, roughin’ up the Felt, just having a grand ol’ time.

Time passes slowly. God, you hate time. It’s a persnickety little bitch. Passes too quickly when you’re having a good time, passes to slowly if you’re anxious. Time is bullshit.

Eventually, the guard comes back to tell you Missy collected the kid, and you breathe a little easier. You were a little worried that they wouldn’t let him go, hold his as ‘evidence’ or some shit. The guard also tells you that come morning, you’ll be transferred to a higher security joint at the edge of town.

It’s morning already anyway, so there’s no use in sleeping. You’ll probably be moved in three or four hours. You probably couldn’t sleep anyway, you’re too wired. You lie down on the little bed, which is not long enough for you, and try to stop thinking.

You try too hard and fall asleep.

Godddamn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters all feel kind of long, but in reality, they're so short. Damn you, intention.
> 
> I typed this at school in third period. Most of it. I'm pretty happy with the fact that I can keep this style consistent.
> 
> If you can guess Jack's girl, you get a cookie. A metaphorical cookie.


End file.
